


The Space Between All Things

by warriorpoet



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Multi, Power Dynamics, Sexual Coercion, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorpoet/pseuds/warriorpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Whites' marriage crumbles, Walt and Skyler use Jesse to fill the gaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Space Between All Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Star_sail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_sail/gifts).



The Whites' house was full of shadows. To Jesse, it felt like a little more light was swallowed up every time he went in. It was something he kept track of now that he was invited in on a regular basis. Not exactly a welcome guest, but more like an ancillary fixture to the darkness.

Skyler was ice throughout these visits; ice that picked up what light there was and reflected it back as cold, empty space. She was blue with the haze of cigarette smoke, blue with the pierce of her eyes that never left Jesse. She would ask him to help with dinner, then lean against the counter with a glass of wine and a smirk. He stood and stared, waiting for water to boil. Seconds moved like glaciers. Everything in this house was cold and dark.

Ice cubes would clatter together as he brought a glass of cold water to his lips, his hand damp with condensation, and he'd think about whether Skyler tasted as cold as she looked. She would watch him, her mouth a twist of seductive cruelty. His tongue would freeze, his dick would twitch.

Walt was stone, impassive, impenetrable. Where Skyler had begun to exhibit some amusement from these nights with her husband and his partner, toying with the kid just for the fun of watching him squirm, Walt let nothing slip. He was a silent observer to the scene, one that he had orchestrated for his own pleasure, but refused to signal his approval of the performance. No applause, only indifference.

It made Jesse try harder, try to stave off the crushing silence and the choking shadows, always talking, talking, talking about nothing, like the only way he could breathe was if he talked. If he stopped, his lungs would seize and his blood would starve. He'd fall to the floor, unable to move, and then husband and wife and whatever fucked up bond they still had would pounce on him, rip him to shreds. So Jesse kept talking.

It was Skyler who finally made him stop.

On that night, as soon as the front door closed behind Jesse and shadows drew him in, Skyler was the darkness, covering him, filling him. She towered over him as she took his arm and led him to his seat at the table. She set a plate in front of him, standing close, too close, the soft swell of her breasts nudging up against his shoulder. She whispered to him, "Enjoy," her lips skimming the shell of his ear, the throaty rasp of her voice curling around his nerves, settling deep in the pit of his belly.

She was warm. Much warmer than Jesse ever expected. He tried to speak, but the room had become a furnace, hot, stale air choking him. Jesse drank from his water glass, ice cubes turning to heated puddles in his mouth. 

Skyler took her seat and kicked off her heels. Her bare foot found Jesse's leg under the table and crept upward, dragging and catching on loose denim, settling finally at his knee, where she rubbed, cupping his bones with the arch of her foot. He choked, and then she jumped to his side again, rubbed his back through a coughing fit, moving her palm with firm, steady circles.

Her eyes were hard, cold, and fixed firmly on Walt.

Walt watched with indifference etched on his face while something heated his blood, made it pump faster. He couldn't be sure whether it was arousal or anger. They both felt the same these days, both equally welcome. 

He knew there was anger because Skyler was touching Jesse the way she wouldn't touch him anymore. A way that he was sure she'd touched him, once, but so long ago that it might as well have never happened. And he knew there was anger because it was _Jesse_ she was touching, and Jesse was supposed to be _his_ and his alone. Jesse, his face flushed as he choked on ice water, blue eyes red-rimmed and watering, gaze dropping to the deep-v of Skyler's neckline as she soothed him. Jesse was just something else for her to take away from him.

Walt was angry because he'd had enough of Skyler's passive-aggressive self destruction. Tonight, Jesse was the pool she'd chosen to walk in to, the smoke she'd decided to breathe, the liquor she was quickly becoming drunk on, the infidelity she flaunted in front of him. Walt had had enough. He wasn't going to pull her out of the water this time. Tonight, Ophelia would drown.

And that was, perhaps, where the arousal came in. It was an opportunity for a strategic move, one he intended to use to his advantage, to take back control. Jesse loved him, in his slight way. Skyler hated him, in her more obvious one. It was an unstable compound with the potential for an explosive reaction.

Walt called Skyler's bluff: "Keep going."

She faltered for a moment, her hand bunching the fabric of Jesse's t-shirt at his back, the cold flame of her eyes flickering brighter.

Jesse gawped at Walt with pure panic.

Walt smiled with bared teeth. "Go on. I know what you're doing, Skyler, so why don't we get it out in the open? It's not as though you're being subtle."

Skyler put her hand to the back of Jesse's neck, her thumb stroking the hollow at the base of his skull. "Shouldn't we ask Jesse what he wants?"

"Jesse wants what I want."

Skyler's lips twisted into a smile at the cold confidence in Walt's voice. She returned to her chair and dragged it around to Jesse's side of the table, setting it perpendicular to him. She sat with her knees pressed to his thigh and ducked her hand under the table, into his lap, palming the burgeoning erection she found there. 

"Is that so?" she asked sweetly.

Jesse's hips kicked up against his will, into her touch. He coughed again, choking now on his own spit.

"Uh... y-yeah. Yeah, I guess. Sometimes."

He looked to Walt again, a plea for help, a plea to make it stop, a plea for him to just sit there and let it happen.

"It's okay, Jesse. Why don't you touch her?"

Skyler raised her eyebrows, daring Jesse to follow through. "What do you want to do, Jesse?" 

Jesse traced the neckline of her blouse with the quivering tips of his fingers. The touch packed a small electric charge, the spark shooting right through Skyler's body. She inhaled sharply, involuntarily, and Jesse searched her face, hesitant, asking permission.

She gave him the slightest of nods, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He exhaled, long and tremorous, as his fingers skimmed the inside of her blouse, his hand advancing and conforming to the shape of her breast. He squeezed, a little too hurried, as though Walt was about to put a stop to this at any second, and Skyler felt a rush of warmth as the lace of her bra grazed across her nipple. 

Propelled forward, Skyler cupped his jaw and kissed him, his lips slack with shock, tongue cold and compliant. She tasted peppermint on his breath, as though he'd spent the early part of his evening parked outside their house chain smoking through his nerves, then chewing fat wads of gum to cover it up.

"Good," Walt rumbled, his voice low. "That's good."

Jesse pulled away, suddenly reminded where he was, who he was kissing, and who was watching.

"Now, is that out of your system, Skyler? How far do you plan to take this?" Walt asked.

Jesse stared down at the tabletop, and Skyler stroked the back of his head, her mocking smile in place again. "Well, Walt, since you're okay with this, I'd like to take it as far as it will go. It seems like Jesse would like that as well." 

Her hand dipped back into his lap and he gave a startled "Ah!" as she grabbed him through his jeans.

"You're welcome to watch," Skyler added. "If you want to."

And just like that, Walt's challenge was thrown back at him. He shifted in his chair, the throbbing ache in his groin making itself known as Skyler turned a wicked smile on him.

Jesse found his voice and stammered, "Mrs. White, I don't – I don't know – "

"It's fine, Jesse," Walt said, calm and steady in a way he didn't feel. "Let's head back to the bedroom, shall we?"

Skyler was not going to back down now. She stood from her chair and trailed a hand across Jesse's back in one smooth motion, brushing past Walt as she headed for the hallway.

Jesse hung behind, until Walt tried to coax him away with a tilt of his head.

"Come on."

Jesse stood, bent over slightly, trying to covertly adjust himself. He gave up, reaching for Walt's arm with a desperate grab.

"Mr. White," he said. "I don't think I can do this."

"You can, Jesse." Walt put his hand on Jesse's shoulder, kneaded the back of his neck. "You can do this for me."

Jesse surrendered to the darkness, walking down the hallway. Skyler waited for him, silhouetted in the doorway as she pulled her blouse off.

"Come on, Pinkman," she said, with that low, taunting voice. "I don't bite."

He looked behind him, desperate, but Walt was nowhere to be seen.

"Yo," he hissed. "You sure about this? He's not just gonna sit there and let me fuck you."

"Yes, he will," Skyler whispered back. "Because he's got too much pride to back out and let me win this. Just lay back and enjoy it while it lasts. I'll make it good for you." She smirked and lightly slapped his cheek. "Take your pants off and get on the bed."

"Shouldn't – shouldn't we wait for him? I mean – "

"He'll come watch if he wants to."

Skyler stared him down, an expectant, penetrating gaze that made his skin prickle, made him feel like he was already naked.

Jesse quickly toed off his sneakers and socks, pulled his shirt over his head, started to fumble at his belt buckle. 

"You _have_ done this before, haven't you?" A note of amusement crept into Skyler's voice as she stroked her hand over his sternum, feeling the echo of his pounding heart.

"Yeah. _Yeah_. Jesus, just... not like this." 

"Don't be scared." Metal clinked and denim rustled. 

Jesse stumbled with his pants around his ankles, fell back onto the bed where Skyler finished undressing him. Now that he was naked, it felt like she was looking inside him, could see the nervous roiling of his stomach, his shuddering lungs, his swimming head, and all the blood in his body thundering down to his cock.

"Why don't you kiss me for a while?" she said. "Touch me."

She covered him with her body, and he was so humiliated by the whole exercise he thought maybe he should just go all the way, start humping her leg like a dog, end this thing before it began by shooting a load all over the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

But he controlled himself, kissed her, buried his face in her chest and breathed in the scent of her perfume, something smoky and exotic, with a biting chemical edge that made his nose itch. He sucked her soft flesh into his mouth and she was ice that melted against his tongue. She moaned against his ear, quiet and low and barely more than an exhale, as he situated his hand between her legs, played with the slick heat he found there, slowly fingering, rubbing with his thumb.

And then she was pulling away from him, his fingers slipped out of her and his cock was nestled in the tight grip of her fist.

"It looks like Jesse doesn't need any help to get started," Skyler said, a sickly sweet sing-song that made Jesse look over, because he'd been able to forget again.

But there was Walt, sitting in a chair that he'd brought in from the dining room, straight-backed but relaxed, watching his wife and his partner with a vaguely amused smirk. 

"Jesse, would you say Skyler is ready? Does she need your help to get started?"

Jesse was lightheaded, couldn't process a question like that when his balls were comfortably nestled in her hand. He rubbed his face with his hand, could smell Skyler all over him. "Ready for what?" he asked lamely.

"What do you _think_ , Jesse?" Walt snapped. "For you to _fuck_ her." 

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'd say so... I mean... if that's what she wants. What – what you want. Both of you."

Walt sat back and crossed his arms. "Get on top of her."

Jesse obeyed, sneaking glances over at Walt, checking in for his continued approval. Walt let nothing show, fixed on the way Skyler pointedly ignored him, the way she lay back on the bed, languidly stretching, kneading her breasts with her own hands, enjoying herself like she hadn't with him in years.

Jesse locked eyes with Walt as he slid inside Skyler. He was stuck, couldn't look away, caught in the hard, blank indifference of his mentor, his partner, the man who had saved his life, the man he'd almost killed once, the man whose wife he was fucking. Then Skyler framed Jesse's face with her hands, directed him back to her, and then he was caught somewhere else, in the curve of her hips and the length of her legs, the way she tasted like cigarettes and red wine and the faint synthetic berry flavor of her lipstick. 

Walt kept staring, even as Skyler made Jesse look away. Skyler moaned with every one of Jesse's thrusts, a throaty, rhythmic noise that increased in pitch and volume with every strike of skin on skin. Walt shifted in the chair, aching to relieve the pressure at his groin, but he would be damned if he was going to give Skyler the satisfaction of sitting in the corner and masturbating, a sad pathetic cuckold, while Jesse fucked her. 

So he stared, and grit his teeth, and let Skyler's moans grate on his nerves rather than arouse him as they usually did. She'd always been vocal in bed, but this was a contrived performance that he knew was entirely for his own benefit. 

Jesse knew no difference. He emitted his own breathless whimpers, spurred on by Skyler, enthusiastically driving forward again and again, pale hips snapping in the darkness. His hands were frantic, trying to touch her everywhere at once, pressing his thumbs against her hipbones, skating his fingers across her ribs, his tongue on her nipple, his open mouth at her throat. She grabbed his wrists and tried to slow him, guided his hands down to where he entered her, moaned even louder as he started to rub her.

She arched her back and dug her heels into the backs of his thighs, pushing him on. He thrust so hard that she knocked against the headboard. He gasped a quick "Sorry," and she started to laugh.

Walt had seen enough. It was time to change this, to add the additional element that would trigger the reaction. He stood from his chair and pressed his fingers to Jesse's lips.

"Open," he commanded.

Jesse's eyes opened first, confusion flickering somewhere around the foggy depths of his blown pupils. 

"Jesse. Open your mouth."

Jesse obeyed, and sucked Walt's middle and index fingers into his mouth, tasting something faintly rubbery, as though the residue of the gloves Walt wore in the lab clung to his skin permanently, and no amount of hand washing could completely remove every particle. 

Walt pressed down on Jesse's tongue, reaching for the back of his throat. Jesse gagged, and Walt quickly withdrew and advanced again, dragging his thumb over Jesse's swollen bottom lip.

"Good," Walt murmured as he pulled away. "Keep fucking her."

Jesse nodded, his mouth empty, his lips full. He slowed his hips, inching almost the whole way out of Skyler before burying himself in her again, swift and hard. 

Skyler cried out, genuine this time, shockwaves shooting through her and shorting out her brain as she tried to anticipate Walt's next move. 

"God, yes. Do it again," she said, her voice all thick honey, trying to get Jesse's attention back on her. It worked, because he surged forward again, giving up any kind of control.

Jesse stopped cold when he felt the warmth of Walt's hand cupping his ass, a wet pressure attempting to breach him.

"The _fuck_ you – "

"Relax, Jesse," Walt murmured, soothing him, gently touching him from the inside. "You'll enjoy this."

It was an instruction, not a reassurance.

Still inside Skyler, Jesse ached from keeping himself still, from the sharp, tearing pain as Walt's fingers sank inside him. His body screamed from trying not to come, from resisting the need to move between the two sensations, to impale himself on the hard twist of Walt's fingers, then dive into the depths of Skyler's slick, clenching warmth.

Jesse groaned, his head lolled. Walt pulled him closer with an arm around his torso, pulled him back so far that he was pulling him out of Skyler. Walt wished that Jesse had never shaved his head, that he still had enough hair to grasp, to pull, to yank his head back and hold him close.

Almost as if Walt's wish had been granted, Jesse's head dropped back against his shoulder, his throat exposed and vulnerable.

"Oh, my God," Jesse groaned as it gave way from pain to pleasure, as he felt the faintest scratch of Walt's beard at his neck.

It was Skyler's turn to watch, to silently burn with the need for release that she refused to grant herself. She sat up, crossed an arm under her breasts, and fixed Walt with a cold stare.

Walt dragged his smirking lips up Jesse's neck to his ear, where he whispered, "You like it, don't you?"

"Yeah." Jesse's voice was thick, as though he were drugged. "Yeah, I like it."

"Good. Good, Jesse. Get on your hands and knees now."

Walt withdrew and Jesse almost fell forward. His arms shaking, he held himself up, spread his knees wider. He locked eyes with Skyler and licked his lips, still tasting her there.

"Do you – do you want me to... to do something...?" 

Skyler smiled, amused. She stroked his face, gentle. "You're a real pleaser, aren't you?"

He didn't know how to answer that. He didn't know where Walt had gone. He didn't have time to think before Skyler was pulling his head down and he was surrounded by her, his senses full of her. He licked, sucked, tried to come up for air, but she held him to her.

She watched as Walt finished his preparations, grabbed Jesse's hips to yank him closer to the edge of the bed. Jesse yelped in surprise, took a gulp of air, and then Skyler moved with him, burying him again. 

Walt pushed inside Jesse, slowly at first, getting him used to it. Jesse's hands scrabbled on the comforter, skimmed over Skyler's thighs and clawed her skin. Walt leaned over, grabbed Jesse by the wrists and pinned his hands at the small of his back.

Skyler glared up at him, seething, fire and ice, until Jesse moaned against her and her eyes slammed closed. Walt pushed in with a sharp thrust, Jesse knocked against her, and she cradled the back of his head.

Walt gripped Jesse's wrists hard enough to leave bruises, he _wanted_ to leave bruises, wanted Jesse to think of this for days whenever he caught sight of the shadowed contusions across his skin, when he felt the tender pain of broken blood vessels. Jesse cried out, muffled by his mouth on Skyler, buried under the moans Skyler made as Walt fucked Jesse's tongue into her.

Skyler's hands clenched on Jesse's skull, she tried to hold on, tried not to let Walt win, tried not to be the one to come first. Her thighs tightened around Jesse, and he sucked her clit, flicked his tongue around her, drawing the alphabet or maybe spelling out a note for help.

Jesse shouted into her skin, and it was that that sent flickering vibrations that turned into waves of electricity shooting through her. Skyler melted, she sank, drowning in what was left of herself. She let go of Jesse and covered her face with her hands, crying out because _fuck him_ , Walt had done this to her.

Jesse pulled away as much as he could, rest his head on Skyler's thigh, tried to catch his breath as Walt pounded into him over and over. 

"Mr. White," he panted. "Let go of my hands. I have to – I have to come. Let me jerk off – "

"Not yet," Walt growled.

"Please!" Jesse cried.

Walt increased his speed and force. Skyler took pity on Jesse for the briefest moment as he wailed into her lap. She touched his face, petted his head, but left his heavy, leaking cock unattended.

Walt quickly snapped his hips, breathing ragged breaths, over, and over, and over the edge. He doubled over, let go of Jesse's wrists and put his arms around Jesse's chest again, tight steel bands that still wouldn't permit Jesse to touch himself. Walt huffed against Jesse's sweaty skin, emptied himself inside him, drained his wounds, relieved the pressure for just a moment.

Walt let go, let Jesse fall into Skyler as he pulled out.

"You can finish now, Jesse."

Jesse groaned in pain, in the anticipation of relief, and hissed as his hand made contact with his cock.

"Don't get it all over my sheets," Skyler said flatly. "I'll get you a towel."

She got up, left him alone on the bed, biting his lip with the strain of holding back. He watched Walt pull his pants back on, watched Skyler walk back from the bathroom, her robe on, but open. She tossed a towel at him, pulled the robe closed when she noticed him staring.

Jesse shoved the towel under him, closed his eyes so he couldn't see the way they looked at him with disgust, pity, amusement, cruel lust, affectionate loathing. He quickly jerked his dick, wanting this to be over, needing it to go on forever. He came with a whimper, shuddering, his pulse roaring in his ears, feeling every thread of the comforter under him, every molecule of air on his skin, every twitch and drip of his body.

He opened his eyes, saw Skyler standing over him with a cigarette in her hand. She exhaled a pointed stream of smoke in Walt's direction, then turned for the bathroom, the lock clicking behind her.

Jesse stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard, his chest heaving, his skin cooling. 

"I, uh..." Jesse croaked, coughed, tried again. "I guess I should be going."

"That's probably for the best," Walt said, sitting back on his chair, straight-backed, relaxed, and Jesse wouldn't believe Walt had ever touched him if his shirt hadn't been undone, if his eyes didn't have that undone look about them too. "Thank you, Jesse. This was..." he trailed off, nodded.

"Yeah." Jesse crawled off the bed, sore, his dick still half-hard. He felt around for his clothes, put himself back together, safe in his armour of oversized denim and cotton and leather. He picked up his shoes, walked down the hall barefoot. Walt followed after him, emerging from the shadows.

"You should come over for dinner again sometime later this week, hmm?" A heavy hand clapped on Jesse's shoulder, the other skated over his hip and shoved something deep in his pocket. "That'll be nice."

"Uh... I gotta see if I got plans, or something, but..."

"Sure. Sure." 

Walt's hand moved up, cradled the back of Jesse's head, thumb stroking the hollow at the base of his skull. He smiled, indulgent, almost approving, and Jesse's pulse picked up again.

"Drive safe," Walt said, and then Jesse was padding down the driveway, the cold concrete and tiny grains of rock cutting into his feet. 

In his car, he jammed a cigarette between his lips, banged the back of his head against the headrest. He took a few puffs and then pulled out whatever Walt had put in his pocket.

Black lace underwear. Skyler's. He was instantly hard again.

Jesse turned the panties over in his hands, then shoved them back down, deep in his pocket. He took a drag of the smoke and looked over at the Whites' house. No light shone in the windows. It was like nobody lived there at all.

He started the car and began the long, aching drive away.


End file.
